


make an honest man of me

by TheRangress



Category: Cosmere - Brandon Sanderson, Stormlight Archive - Brandon Sanderson
Genre: Asexual Kaladin, Established Relationship, First Time, Kal is mildly-sex repulsed. Ren isn't. they work something out, M/M, Missed Opportunities For Closet Jokes, Scar Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-10-15
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRangress/pseuds/TheRangress
Summary: “You. You, lighteyes. Keeping hope with me. The world can’t go empty again with you so terribly…” He paused, resting his head on Renarin’s forehead. Kaladin gave a soft sigh. “Perfect.”





	make an honest man of me

Renarin knew perfectly well how unusual he was being, which is why when Kaladin opened the door, the first thing he said was “Nobody’s dying.”

Kaladin, hair tousled and eyes heavy with sleep, blinked a few times. He wore only his drawers, standing before Renarin in pajamas and robe. “You woke me up to tell me nobody’s dying?”

“Yes. No.” Renarin took a deep breath. “I didn’t wake you up to tell you someone was dying.”

“So why did you?” His voice was tired, but not impatient. Renarin knew impatience.

“I. Er. Seeing as we’ve… ah… our relationship…”

“We’re lovers.”

Renarin felt himself blush. “Yes. We are. And I… I just… tonight…”

“You had a nightmare and couldn’t calm down.”

“Yes.” He looked up. “I needed to… see you. I’ll leave now.”

“No. Come in.”

Kaladin left socks and shirts strewn over the floor and his chair, and those were the only decoration in his room. It was smaller than Renarin’s, of course. The bed was about the same, but lacking Renarin’s hoard of the thickest and heaviest blankets he could find.

A hand on his shoulder guided Renarin to the bed. Kaladin sat at his side and wrapped an arm around him. After a moment’s pause, Renarin rested on Kaladin’s shoulders.

“Do you want to talk?”

“I think I’ve made it quite clear I shouldn’t.” Kaladin’s arms were more protection than armor. Renarin could feel each breath, rising and falling.

“It doesn’t matter if you manage to speak well or not, Ren.” He pulled Renarin in closer, tighter. “If you want to talk, talk. If you don’t…” He pressed a kiss against the top of Renarin’s head.

Renarin took a moment. He turned and moved into Kaladin’s lap, then kissed him deep and hard, pressing down until they lay together on the bed. Kaladin ran his hands down Renarin’s back, his tongue along Renarin’s teeth. If Renarin could only hold tight enough, kiss deep enough, he would find the peace that eluded him. He had one hand on Kaladin’s hip, then fiercely nested the other in his hair as they shifted mouths.

Kaladin broke it off first. The heavy and ragged heaves of their chests were in sync. He didn’t speak, only running his fingers gently through Renarin’s hair.

“It wasn’t like the other dreams.” He lowered his head, resting forehead to forehead on Kaladin’s. “Not death, not destruction, not… I dreamed you left me. I dreamed you _left me_ , Kaladin.”

“I’ll never leave you.” He pressed a soft kiss to Renarin’s lips. “You know I couldn’t.”

“All I know is that I’m…”

“Renarin.” His hand was warm against Renarin’s cheek. “You have no reason to doubt yourself.”

“…lighteyes.”

He rolled off Kaladin, raising his hands to his face. Covering his eyes.

“Why should that matter?”

Beside him, he could feel Kaladin roll onto his side. He put a hand around Renarin’s waist. His hand was hot.

“Are you going to play innocent? Really, play innocent?”

“It shouldn’t matter.” His voice was harder.

“I’m not an idiot, Kaladin, and it matters and it will always matter and _you deserve someone who understands._ ”

Wordlessly he ran his hand up and down, from Renarin’s ribs to his hip.

“You understand,” he said slowly.

“How can I?” He turned away, pulling his knees to his chest. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kal.”

“I didn’t want to love you.” He held back, this time. “I kept telling myself that I knew _better._ Maybe I could believe your family was better than Amaram, but I couldn’t let myself trust a lighteyes so. But you… Renarin. Ren. You’re living proof that sometimes the world is better.”

Renarin rolled onto his back again, moving his hands off his face. Gently, Kaladin took one and pressed a kiss to his wrist.

“I had a nightmare too. It was of… I was back in slavery, after one of the times I tried to escape. He was taking others— people who’d helped me, who I liked, who had _nothing to do with it,_ and… you were there, Renarin. I dreamed you were there and I had to watch… He forced me to watch…”

Renarin kissed him so he could stop trying to speak, then took Kaladin’s hand. He moved it up to hold against his neck, to where Kaladin could feel his pulse.

Kaladin pulled him in closer, nestling his face into the crook of Renarin’s neck. They lay there silently, Renarin’s slender fingers running over Kaladin’s bare arm.

His touch caught on scars, the constant scars laced over Kaladin’s skin. He pulled back and pressed a hard kiss to the brands on his forehead. Renarin _liked_ how the smooth skin felt against his lips, liked to run his fingers through Kaladin’s silky curls to pull them back as he kissed each glyph. He saved the _shash_ for last, the softest and most delicate kiss.

“Ren.” He grabbed at a handful of Renarin’s robe. Kaladin opened his mouth to speak again, then thought better of it. He shut his eyes as Renarin smoothed down his hair, leaning into the touch.

“My love,” Renarin whispered, leaning in to kiss Kaladin’s forehead again. He moved his hand, a tentative touch to Kaladin’s scarred shoulderblades. “May I..?”

“Please.” He leaned up, kissed long and slow, took each of Renarin’s lips between his. “I’ll never know how you can love scars so.”

He moved, pressing his mouth to a long scar on Kaladin’s shoulder. “They’re strength. Endurance.”

The rearranging was a little messy. To reach the scars, Renarin had to sit behind. He wrapped one leg around into Kaladin’s lap, and Kaladin leaned forward, a hand rubbing at Renarin’s thigh.

“And I can do this,” Renarin murmured into Kaladin’s scarred spine. He had to kiss every inch, it seemed, to reach each scar. “I can’t go back, I can’t change things. I wasn’t there for you when these were made. I can be here now.”

Kaladin arched back into the kisses, fingers digging into Renarin’s slim leg. “You’re here now.”

He rested his face in the hollow of Kaladin’s spine. “I know it’s not enough. I’d give anything to make it right.”

“You’re enough.” Kaladin turned around and pulled Renarin into his lap. Gently, without resistance, he pushed the robe off Renarin’s shoulders. “You. You, lighteyes. Keeping hope with me. The world can’t go empty again with you so terribly…” He paused, resting his head on Renarin’s forehead. Kaladin gave a soft sigh. “Perfect.”

Renarin looked up, jaw trembling slightly. He took a sharp, ragged breath, almost a laugh.

“Do you— do you mind if I— ” He pulled slightly at the hem of Renarin’s long nightshirt. Without words, Renarin raised his arms, letting Kaladin pull it away.

There were a few moments of chaos, of lips and teeth and hands, tangled legs pressed into chests and heads falling off the bed. Eventually Renarin’s head reached the pillows, and Kaladin’s mouth reached his neck. Hands ran over muscle, Renarin’s legs wrapped tight around Kaladin’s waist.

“I should go.” A sharp inhalation cut him off. Renarin readjusted his legs as Kaladin readjusted his kiss. “I shouldn’t be seen coming out of your room.”

“You’re Bridge Four.” He pressed a smaller kiss further up Renarin’s neck. “You can be seen leaving the _barracks_.” The next kiss was harder.

“What about— this is unfair, you are very unfair— the bridgemen? They’ll think we’re…”

Kaladin pulled away from Renarin’s neck. “…Having sex.”

“After what you said before…” He didn’t like sex. It made him uncomfortable. Renarin would never dare betray the trust of Kaladin’s saying that.

“I’ve been thinking.” He ran a hand from Renarin’s collarbone to his hip. “I still don’t understand, but… I like the idea of trying it with you.”

“What?” He didn’t move.

“I don’t know.” He laid his head back down. “Before it always made my stomach tie itself in knots to think about, but I think about _you_ and… Maybe I could enjoy it, with you. I want to try, at least.”

Renarin froze for a moment. He’d made his peace with what Kaladin had said, that they would never have sex. It had taken time, a little reassurance that it wasn’t about him not being good enough.

“Now?”

He put his thumb in the waistband of Renarin’s trousers, then stopped. “I don’t know what to do.”

Renarin moved to pull down Kaladin’s drawers in turn. “Neither do I.”

 

* * *

 

Kaladin woke with Renarin in his arms, drooling slightly on his bare chest.

The blankets and pillows were a tangled mess. Neither of them were calm sleepers. Perhaps that would change, though. He pressed a kiss to Renarin’s forehead, smiling at his soft hum. How long had it been since he’d wanted anything to last so much? He wanted to stay in that morning forever.

He would ask Renarin to stay with him. Every night, every morning, together. What was the point of waking up alone? Today the idea of another morning, of getting up and going back to work again didn’t exhaust him. He had Renarin.

“Good morning,” mumbled Renarin, his voice rough with sleep. He pushed himself up so he could give Kaladin a kiss.

“Good morning, beloved.” He ran a hand through Renarin’s messy, tangled hair and smiled. He’d never thought himself capable of this much love.

“I… how was… Did you…” Renarin made a quiet huff, a habit when he was too embarrassed to finish a sentence. Kaladin put a hand on his shoulder so he could stop trying.

It took a moment to think about. “I think I liked most of it.” Most of it had been awkward. In places he’d come up against that revulsion again. It wasn’t often intense, just the way you might wrinkle your nose before touching fish. Sex in itself wasn’t something he cared for, and he didn’t think he ever would.

But sex with Renarin— raw intimacy, getting lost in each other, lost in Renarin’s joy and beauty and warmth— he wanted more. Renarin _loved_ sex, and that happiness was worth it. Maybe his revulsion would fade as he got used to it, and if not, they would keep on working around it.

Just physically— Renarin’s strong, slender legs. The taut muscles of his stomach. The sharpness of his hipbones. Gold freckles scattered like scars on every inch of his skin. For that night, he’d been able to see Renarin tired and sweaty, happy and relaxed.

He didn’t think all the walls had fallen, but sex made them so much weaker. It was worth it to see and touch and _have_ Renarin without a hint of fear in his shoulders, without the anxious ways he was constantly aware of his face and hands, without anything but the moment and his love.

He smiled a little as he leaned in closer to Renarin’s face. “I think it’ll probably be better next time.”

“I’ll try to find out what to do before then.” Renarin returned the smile, moving to lie on Kaladin’s chest again. He played gently with the ends of Kaladin’s hair. “Then we’ll keep working out what _we_ do.”

“This. Definitely this.” Something caught his eye. “Storms!”

“Storms?” Renarin pulled back. “Is something— ” He trailed off, as Kaladin pointed to his neck. “…Oh. You… ah… oh.”

Kaladin felt himself blush as he looked at the several purple bruises along Renarin’s neck and shoulder. He’d done that. It wasn’t the first time, yet he still felt guilty.

“This is going to make pretending I wasn’t here last night very difficult,” Renarin murmured to himself.

It was that moment when the sound of footsteps appeared in the hall.

“Storming— look, get in the closet.” Kaladin sat up and desperately tried to arrange his bed, hiding Renarin’s drawers under his pillow.

“I thought we weren’t hiding this from Bridge Four.”

“Do you want to deal with them walking in on us naked?” He pushed his drawers into Renarin’s hands. “Closet. They can put things together later.”

“Closet,” Renarin agreed, swiftly getting out of bed and rushing into the closet.

Kaladin took a moment to try to think of a good lie. He hated lying, but he hated the thought of putting up with the teasing even more.

“Captain!” called, of _course_ , Lopen. “Why is it you of all people has overslept?”

He took another moment. “I’m ill. Go away.”

“Then you should see a doctor,” said Sigzil. “Shall we get one?”

“My lunch disagreed with me!”

They were silent. A bad sign. “Captain, you did not eat lunch yesterday!”

Damnation, Lopen. He would know— they’d been on patrol together _as_ Lopen ate his lunch. “Your lunch disagreed with me,” he said weakly.

The door opened. It was moments like these when Kaladin knew that truly, the Almighty must be dead.

“The only time I have known you to sleep in was when you were left in a highstorm and nearly died,” Lopen said, strolling in, “and that hardly counts as your duty was in fact to be sleeping.”

Sigzil wasn’t the only one with him. He stayed in the hall, but Rock and Drehy followed.

“Captain,” said Drehy, bending down to the floor and making Kaladin pray for a swift death, “Why have you got a silk shirt on the floor?” He held up Renarin’s shirt, much too fine for anyone but a Highprince’s son.

“I borrowed it.” He pulled the blankets up to cover the rest of his chest.

“Robe’s over here,” Lopen called, holding that up.

“And trousers!” Rock pointed. “You should keep better care of these things that you borrow, Kaladin.”

“Hmm,” said Lopen, with a knowing wink to Drehy. “Clothes on the floor and the captain sleeping in?”

“I don’t know what possibly could have happened here,” Drehy said flatly. He put the shirt on Kaladin’s nightstand.

A door opened.

Renarin stepped out of the closet. He was wearing nothing but drawers and one of Kaladin’s shirts, half-buttoned. His disheveled hair and marked neck were on display for all.

“My family will be expecting me,” he said, with a royal air. He extended a hand toward Lopen for his robe.

“Renarin,” Lopen said, running his eyes up and down as he handed over the robe.

“Good morning.” He pulled the robe on and stepped into the hall, nodding to Sigzil. Then, he paused. “I can’t go out like this. My father…” He turned around, to Kaladin. “He’d kill us. Force you to make an honest man of me. Possibly in that order.”

“I’ve never known you to be dishonest,” Kaladin said. He had to admit, at least Renarin’s boldness had made the bridgemen quiet.

“What about all the time he was hiding that he was a Radiant?” Sigzil shrugged. “I wouldn’t say he’s honest or dishonest.”

“Thank you,” said Renarin. He stepped into the room and sat at the foot of the bed.

“Someone go get Renarin’s clothes,” Kaladin said, gesturing. “If anyone asks he just spent the night in the barracks as a bridgeman.”

“If anyone outside of Bridge Four asks,” Lopen corrected. “Do not worry. Dalinar Kholin shall not hear a word of this. However, you two shall not hear the end of it.”

“I know.” Kaladin put a pillow over his head.

“Ah,” Rock bellowed, “so I see it _was_ something you ate!”

Kaladin lifted the pillow from one eye. Was that a joke about..?

Rock clapped them both on the shoulder and then left.

The room was silent.

Drehy coughed. “So, uh… Did it go well, then?”

Kaladin put the pillow back over his head.

“Yes,” Renarin mumbled.

“You’re lucky, then.” The room went silent, and Kaladin attempted to become one with his bed. “Captain, I take it with your doctoring—?”

“Yes,” Kaladin groaned into the pillow. “I know enough about sexual health, Drehy.”

“It’s the _rest_ of it that’s a problem,” Renarin mumbled.

“Well, if you need any advice on that front I’ll see what I can tell you.” Drehy paused. “Later. I’ll go make sure they save you two some breakfast.”

“Goodbye, Drehy.”

At last, the door closed.

Kaladin groaned loudly, took the pillow off his face, and sat up.

He was hit in the face with a pair of drawers.

“Yours don’t fit me,” Renarin said.

After a long pause, Kaladin smiled and took the drawers off his face. “Maybe your quarters next time.”

“And then we’ll have to deal with Adolin finding out.” Renarin stood, shrugged his robe off, and started to gather his pajamas. Kaladin watched his bare legs, the shirt pulling up to bare his freckled backside. “Not that this will stay secret long…”

“Well,” said Kaladin, “I guess you’ll just have to make an honest man of me before it comes out.”

Renarin turned and smiled. “I guess I will.”


End file.
